Page 135 of The Fake Out


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“It’s okay,” he says again, running a hand over my hair, and I see that he understands. He smiles like he can read my thoughts. It’s just another reason my heart pounds for him—because he’s endlessly patient and gentle. Because he knows I’m broken and trying to put myself back together for him.

“I’ll wait,” he says.

Oh god. Yeah. I really do love him. I think I might have loved him for a while. Longer than I’m ready to admit. I tried so hard not to but I think that might have been the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, trying not to fall for him.

I move to straddle him, our eyes locked the entire time. His hands settle on my waist, and I bring my mouth to his.

“How’s your ankle?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t care about my ankle right now.”

Rory nods, eyelids falling halfway, and his throat works. He’s probably going to say something about me resting it anyway, but instead, I kiss him.

CHAPTER66

HAZEL

While we kiss,Rory lifts me up and carries me to his bedroom, gently setting me down on the bed before kneeling on the floor in front of me. The air buzzes with electricity as his mouth moves over mine, pulling apart for a second at a time to remove each other’s clothes, until finally, I’m sitting on the bed in a lavender bra and matching thong.

“I really needed you today,” he whispers, throat working, and the look in his eyes is so heartbreakingly vulnerable that emotion pulses through me.

I know this. When it comes to his mom, he’s lost, and I just want to hold his hand and make sure he’s okay.

God, I want to be that person for him. So badly.

“Say those words again,” I whisper. “From earlier.”

He smiles, holding my face while he presses a kiss to my lips. “I love you.”

I sigh, practically floating, and he climbs over me on the bed. Like every time we kiss, I forget everything else except the feel of his mouth, his hand slipping into the back of my hair, his knee nudging between mine. He settles between my legs, and the impressive length of his cock pressing against my clit sends sparks racing through me. My lips part and his tongue slips between them, and when I suck on it lightly, Rory’s breath catches, and a low, pleasured noise comes from deep in his chest.

“Jesus,” he murmurs before stroking back into my mouth, tasting me. I arch against him because something in that one word tells me exactly how much he needs me, how he might lose his mind if he can’t have more. His hips tilt against me, fingers tightening in my hair, and shivers of delight and arousal dance down my spine. “I could come from just this, Hartley, I swear.”

An aching throb starts low in my stomach, and I must make a noise of protest or need or both because he lets out a low chuckle that I want to lick off his smiling mouth.

“But I won’t.” Another slow, lazy kiss. My panties are damp. “And not before you get what you need.”

Our kiss moves from slow and thoughtful to fast and urgent.

“Every time I jerk off, I think about the way your pussy tastes. I never fucking last, thinking about that.”

I moan, arching against him again, chasing friction as I grind my hips into his. His cock hits the bundle of nerves between my legs and my whole body tightens.

He hovers over me, pressing himself into that spot again, making my eyes roll back. His mouth hooks into a smug, pleased smile, eyes hot and pinning me. He rewards me with a line of nipping kisses down my throat before he sucks a sensitive spot at the base of my neck, and I moan, tilting my hips toward him shamelessly.

“Are we doing this tonight?”

“Yes,” I gasp as his tongue does small circles in the divot above my collarbones. “I fucking hope so.”

“Good.” His eyes darken and he rests his forehead on my sternum as he takes a deep breath. His expression tells me this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Me, too, I think.

I want him. I don’t care about the consequences, and I don’t care if I get hurt.

His hand slides between my legs and he presses a firm circle against the front of my panties. My back arches as pleasure loops through me.

“Oh my god,” I murmur, looking up at Rory’s dark, lazy grin.

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